Ravished by a Viking

by Delilah Devlin

  Seventeen

  When Dagr’s explosive release ebbed, he froze atop Honora, wondering what had happened, not understanding—or wanting—the emotions rolling over him. Queasiness grabbed his stomach. He felt as though a sea serpent had butted his skiff from beneath him, tilting him crazily toward thin ice.

  His body tensed, growing rigid, and he planted his hands on the bed on either side of Honora’s shoulders and lifted his chest from hers. His gaze remained firmly on her hair, because he couldn’t meet her eyes. Not yet.

  Something had happened. And he knew exactly when—between the moment he’d decided to give her everything she wanted and when he couldn’t bear to strike her one more time.

  His hand had lain against her skin, which he’d watched redden, turning a deep, bruised pink, and he’d rebelled. Even knowing this was something she’d begged for. His chest had tightened; his heart thudded dully against his breastbone and he’d bent to rub his face on her, shutting his eyes tightly, his stomach knotting in revolt.

  Even now, Dagr had the overwhelming urge to draw her close, bury his head between her breasts, and never let her go.

  Instead, he withdrew, clamping his jaw as his cock slid from the warm haven of her pussy. He rolled to his back and hid his face in the curve of his arm.

  Honora lay beside him, her breaths every bit as ragged as his. She quivered, her shaking continuing unabated for several long seconds.

  He uncovered his eyes, stared at the ceiling, and willed himself not to care. Instead, he extended his arm, inviting her to roll close, and then cupped her against his side. “We should sleep,” he said, his voice gruff.

  As she nodded, her cheek rubbed against his chest.

  He kissed the top of her head and let out a deep breath. “I will find you. When this is over, I will search for you. Wait for me.”

  “Wait, like a woman should?” Her body tensed. “Wouldn’t it be easier for me to stay with you?”

  “There will be a battle. I want you away from the fighting.”

  After a long, pregnant silence, she said, “If we part, I’m afraid we’ll never find each other again.” Her fingers slid over his stomach. “Or that you’ll ... get busy. You do have a kingdom to run.”

  He grunted. She didn’t know her worth. He wouldn’t tell her how important she really was to him. If he failed in his quest, ignorance might be a blessing.

  Birget eyed Cyrus and Roxana, amused by the female pirate’s wariness. The woman had lost her bravado. Her skin was pale beneath the dusky pigment. For his part, Cyrus’s whole body betrayed tension. A snarl twisted his mouth, and he bit out orders like a dog barking as it circled its prey. The transfer of the containerized ore was complete. A smaller portion had been delivered to the saloon for the purchase of the cat-woman’s papers, should she choose to use it for that purpose. Something Birget had shaken her head over. She couldn’t imagine a fuck being worth that much.

  Then again, eyeing Baraq’s lean, muscular frame, she couldn’t deny that physical attraction was a very strong motivator. Baraq hadn’t sought her out again, which seemed to increase her awareness of him, and she wished for another chance to take him inside her body and prove that she was made like any other female and capable of climaxing while riding his cock. Tension swirled in her belly. He was beautifully made. Wondrously strong—even for an Outlander.

  Baraq’s gaze sliced her way, and his brows lowered in warning. He stood beside the gangway, eyeing activity on the dock. As long as they remained on the planet, they were vulnerable.

  Birget gave up trying to keep her distance. The pull of her attraction fueled her moves as she strode reluctantly his way, wishing he seemed a little happy with her company.

  His gaze scanned her impersonally, then returned to the gangway. “What are you doing here?”

  She pouted, angry that he wasn’t as eager to see her as she was him. “You’re my companion, remember? Dagr gave you to me.”

  “I’m not yours,” he ground out, a muscle in his jaw jumping.

  Birget couldn’t resist the urge. She leaned against his chest and traced the length of his nose with a fingertip, drawing his hard, dark gaze. “You could be,” she whispered.

  Baraq snorted, and closed his fist around her hand, squeezing, warning her to behave, and then dropped it. “How? Do you think Dagr would enslave me to you? Wouldn’t he worry about his brother’s claim?”

  She shrugged a shoulder, pretending unconcern. The same worry had been spinning in her head ever since they’d had sex. “You’re not a Norseman. He has nothing to fear. You’re far inferior to our men.”

  Baraq rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged the corners of his lips. “Then why bother yanking my leash, Princess?”

  “I should have collared you, just as Dagr did your captain. Speaking of which ...” She said the last bit under her breath.

  Dagr approached with Honora beside him. She didn’t miss the way the Wolfskin king cupped his captive’s elbow. The man was always touching her, pulling her close for an embrace, or simply following her with his sharp blue gaze.

  His obsession with the woman met with amusement among his men, most notably Grimvarr, whose expression seemed to hold a hint of pride whenever he beheld them, which had her wondering why.

  Birget sniffed. Their relationship would soon be at an end. Did Honora believe this was anything but an interlude, a tryst to stave off boredom?

  Frakki ran up the gangway, his face alight with excitement. “Captain Dagr,” he called out loudly.

  Dagr waited for him. “The Daedalus is supplied?”

  “Yes, and the ore is safely in the hold. We’re ready to transfer crew.”

  Dagr looked around at the men gathered in the cargo bay. They’d been told the crew would be divided up—one half moved to the civilian transport, the rest remaining aboard the Proteus. Dagr hadn’t informed them of the assignments yet. Whoever remained on the Proteus would suffer capture by the Consortium.

  Birget wasn’t eager to be imprisoned, but she would accept whatever assignment Dagr gave her. She’d insisted on accompanying the wolves, had fought alongside them. Her own people were among the captives whose freedom they sought.

  Still, she was as tense as the men gathering around to hear Dagr’s final decision.

  Dagr’s glance swept the Vikings. He was the only one relaxed among them. His features were set, his frame still. “You know this vessel can’t follow the Orion without attracting the attention of every Consortium ship in the sector.”

  Heads nodded. Square jaws firmed. Birget felt a burst of pride to be standing among such fearless warriors. Their story would be heralded for ages. She hoped she’d be around awhile to brag.

  “The transport we’ve purchased is unencumbered and, as a private vessel, can approach Helios’s solar system without drawing attention. That doesn’t mean that those who crew the ship won’t face mortal dangers.

  “If you’re able to catch the Orion, you will have to take it by force. If it arrives at Helios before you catch up, then you will have to slip into port by stealth to rescue the men.”

  Dagr’s expression grew grimmer; a muscle flexed at the edge of his strong jaw. “Those who remain on the Proteus face an uncertain future. We will draw away the armada so the transport can slip through it without anyone making the connection between the two ships. The Proteus will flee, possibly drawing fire. If we survive the race, we will be captured. I do have a plan for escape, which I will discuss with the men who stay with me only after we’ve left Karthagos.”

  “You will need crew capable of piloting the other ship,” Birget broke in.

  Dagr gave her a tight smile. “Yes, and Cyrus will be its captain.”

  In an instant, Cyrus stepped into the circle, his hands curling at his sides. “I’m not leaving you, Dagr.”

  Dagr gripped his upper arms. “Friend, if the Consortium finds you aboard the ship, you will be dead.”

  “As will you.”

  “Perhaps, but like I sai
d, I do have a plan. I need you on that other ship.” His hands dropped away from Cyrus, and his steady gaze cut toward her. “Birget ...”

  She jerked, and then stiffened, wondering what menial responsibility he would give her. “Yes, Dagr.”

  “You will accompany him.”

  Her breath caught for just a second. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. “Of course. Whatever your wish,” she said, surprising him and herself with her quick agreement.

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “As the captain of the Valkyrja, you are accustomed to leadership. You will be in charge of the mission to rescue my brother, your future husband, and the other captives.”

  Her jaw sagged just a fraction before she strengthened it and straightened her shoulders. Pride warmed her heart. “I’m confused. You’ve resisted allowing me any place on this ship. From the moment we met, you’ve belittled my skills.”

  “You’re strong, resourceful, and brave—as you’ve proven every time you defied me. And you are a noble, born to lead.” He nodded to Baraq. “You will act as her next in command and her personal guard. If anything happens to her, it will be your head.”

  Baraq gave him a curt nod.

  Birget held still to keep her excitement at that assignment a secret. Baraq didn’t look her way, and she didn’t dare glance at him.

  “They’ll have only a skeleton crew,” Honora said, once Dagr confirmed that the rest of the Proteus’s crew would remain aboard the ship.

  “But enough to point the ship where needed. Cyrus will be stretched, but he has assured me that whoever captains the ship has everyone he needs so long as my men follow his directions.”

  Worry bled from Honora’s face. “You kept my crew away so they wouldn’t hear the instructions.”

  “The less they know, the better. I am assuming they’ll be interrogated.”

  “Are you going to tell me your plan?”

  He shook his head.

  “Let me guess,” she said, a smile that wasn’t a happy sight curving her mouth. “The less I know, the better.”

  He pulled her against his side, and she rested her head against his chest.

  Birget gave a soft snort.

  “So she takes comfort from him,” Baraq said under his breath. “That doesn’t make her weak.”

  She turned to study his taut features. “Are you envious of what they share?”

  One dark eyebrow rose. “I’m envious that her burden will be so much lighter than mine,” he drawled.

  “Grimvarr.”

  As Dagr’s attention moved on, Birget at last shared a charged glance with Baraq. Tension had eased from his face. Was he happy to remain with her?

  A hand touched the small of her back and she breathed deeply.

  Grimvarr stepped closer to Dagr, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Cousin?”

  “I would have you travel with them. My brother’s fate is uncertain. I risk imprisonment or death. You are our heir. It’s best we travel separately.”

  Grimvarr’s upper lip lifted in a fierce snarl. “I belong with you. Who better to watch your back?”

  “Don’t argue.” Dagr sighed. “Please, cousin. Birget may be in charge, but you are the highest ranking among the wolves after me. She will have need of you to ensure the loyalty of the men. She will rely on your counsel.”

  Frakki stepped forward. “You will not leave me behind,” he said, his deep voice growling.

  Birget grinned at the bearded man’s intense scowl. She had no doubt Frakki would battle Dagr himself if his king tried to leave him behind.

  Dagr smiled and reached out to clasp Frakki’s forearm. “We will face this together. I trust you with my back, friend.” He divided the rest of the wolves, sending to the transport only one of the Outlanders, besides Cyrus—a crew member with navigational experience.

  Birget hesitated before breaking away to join the men heading down the gangway to the other ship. “If you need to grab your belongings, say your good-byes ...”

  Baraq shook his head, aimed a glance at Honora, who gave him a teary smile, and then turned on his heel to follow the rest of the men down the gangway.

  Which left Birget hovering, waiting for Dagr to spare a moment for her to speak with him.

  When he’d finished with his men and those staying on the Proteus broke up to head to their assigned stations, his head turned her way. “Still here?”

  Birget frowned, grateful he’d said something to piss her off because she felt the strange urge to cry. “Thank you.”

  Dagr’s expression showed no softness, just his usual hard, stoic face. “Birget, if you don’t want this responsibility, the only other option I can offer you in good conscience is to leave you with enough ore to buy your passage back to New Iceland.”

  Be excluded? No. She squared her shoulders. “Dagr, I know I’ve defied you and have given you no reason to trust my motives or my good sense.”

  “You wanted to be seen as your own person. Not a woman who would be a pawn. I understand.”

  “You’re more magnanimous than I would have been.”

  A brawny shoulder lifted. “I was stubborn. I should have given you respect and appropriate responsibility. But I am sending Grimvarr and Baraq along with you because they are both experienced fighters. Grim is young, but he trained under me. He thinks before he acts. And I’ve tested Baraq’s mettle. He’s strong and intelligent.” A finger jabbed the air. “If they advise you, listen.”

  She nodded. The moment to leave was upon her, but she didn’t know how to say good-bye. Should she say her farewell to her brother or her king?

  “Still here?” he repeated, more softly this time.

  A dark brow arched, but she didn’t miss the deep inhalation. Maybe she’d gotten to him as well. Taking a risk, she stepped closer and slid her arms around his waist.

  He was slow to return the embrace, but his hug was hard, breath-stealing, and he lifted her off her feet for a moment, before letting her back down.

  Birget sank against his chest and accepted his embrace, taking strength from him.

  Dagr pressed a kiss against her forehead and released her. Then he slipped the black amulet he wore around his neck over his head and dropped it over hers, pulling her braid through it and touching the stone where it lay against her chest. “From this day, you are my sister. And a Wolfskin. Have pride in both your families.”

  Birget blinked at the moisture welling in her eyes, and grasped the amulet, still warm from his skin, inside her fist.

  He tucked a finger under chin to raise her face. “Be careful, little sister,” he said softly.

  Tears continued to fill her eyes, and her nose burned, but she didn’t feel shame. She nodded, turned to Honora and gave her a little bow, then executed a sharp about-face. As she marched away, her heart soared. She, Birget of the Bearshirt clan, had earned the approval of the Black Wolf.

  Baraq waited in front of the transport ship.

  The sight of him gave her comfort and strength. She wasn’t sure she liked the fact she wanted to lean on a man. Her chin shot up. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just leave you on the dock?”

  “You don’t trust me, Princess?”

  “Don’t mock me, not now. I would know that you come willingly and without an ulterior purpose.”

  “My reasons for falling in with the Black Wolf’s plans have nothing to do with you, even as attractive as I find you. I’m not a man whose principles will be swayed by a pretty face.”

  Birget frowned as heat blossomed on her cheeks. She was setting out on a mission that, if successful, would be added to the sagas that chronicled her people’s history. However, a backhanded compliment from an Outlander warmed her, melting her insides.

  A feeling that could prove disastrous. For the first time, she worried about whether she had done the right thing seducing him. “Then why?”

  “Because I am obligated to find those men—to save my captain and myself, and to do the right thing.” Baraq turned on his heel a
nd walked up the gangplank.

  But he walked slowly, speeding up only when she stomped on the gangplank behind him. Birget smiled, her chest filled with happiness for the respect she’d earned, and for the man who would share the adventure.

  Dagr watched her leave, giving a silent prayer to the gods he didn’t really believe in to protect Birget and aid her in finding his brother.

  “Do you regret leaving it to her to find him?” Honora said, slipping her hand inside his.

  He squeezed her hand, then dropped it. “She is a Viking. She will do everything in her power to succeed. Whether or not she’s happy with her future husband.” He glanced down. “Don’t we have a chase to lead?”

  Honora closed her eyes for a brief moment, and then took a deep breath. “I wish we had more time.”

  “We’ll have a lifetime, Lady Captain.” He would make it so.

  Eighteen

  Eirik braced his hands against the bars of his cage as the spacecraft shuddered and rattled around them.

  “What is happening?” one of the Vikings farther down the row of cages cried out.

  “My guess is that we’re entering a planet’s atmosphere,” Eirik shouted, holding tight to the bars of his own small prison.

  Up and down the line, the men shared worried glances as the spacecraft continued to shimmy. Then it jerked, sending them banging against the bars before the glide path of the craft evened out. The sensation of a swift descent unsettled Eirik’s belly.

  Without windows into the world they entered, Eirik could only guess at what happened, until the descent abruptly halted and the ship groaned and thudded, settling at last. The hum of the engines died away, leaving a silence that was as frightening as the moment he’d woken naked on the cage floor.

  “We have no weapons, but we cannot let them take us from this ship,” said Hakon, the Berserkir in the adjacent cage.

  Eirik eyed the tension in his fellow captive’s face and knew he must look every bit as stern. They hid their trepidation, tamping it down while they schooled their heartbeats into steady rhythms. Panic and fear wouldn’ t serve them now. They needed an opportunity. Just one.